Loss of the Riseover



Attention all ye fishermen
And listen unto me
While I relate the dangers
Attend those on the sea,
For every year some home is sad
We hear from day to day
Some father or some loving son
Is quickly snatched away.

The “Riseover” from a Northern Bay
With lumber she did sail
For she was deeply laden
And filled up to the rail
For Saint John’s she was bound my boys
Her anchors they did weigh
And with a sweet and pleasant breeze
The schooner sailed away.

But only when a few hours out
A heavy breeze did blow
The evening it got bitter cold
With blinding sleet and snow
And near the middle of the night
A fearful sea did rise
It was a hard and trying time
On these poor sailor boys.

The skipper, he gave orders
That night to shorten sail
All hoping before daylight
She would ride out the gale.
The heavy strain she could not stand
As seas broke o’er her rail
And last the schooner foundered
In the fury of the gale.

To save their lives a raft was made
And that was quickly manned
By these poor shipwrecked fishermen
In hopes to make the land
And as the raft got near the shore
It quickly broke in two
And carried off two fishermen
Of the “Riseover’s” crew.

The fishermen who reached the shore
Their hearts were filled with joy
But changed to sadness quickly
When they heard their comrades’ cry.
And as they watched them drive to sea
While they stood on the shore
They saw them wave a fond adieu
Till they were seen no more.

The Fogota quickly put to sea
And searched the coast around
But no sign of the missing men
Could anywhere be found
John Pomroy and poor Spracklin
Put up a noble fight
And lost their lives like heroes
In the gale of Sunday night.



From Burke’s Ballads, p19

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